


Word of Mouth

by PipGraham



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Chronic Pain, M/M, Not MCU compliant, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Needs a Massage, massage therapist Steve, post-Afghanistan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:40:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21796996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PipGraham/pseuds/PipGraham
Summary: When Miss Potts of Stark Industries books Steve for an emergency appointment at Stark Tower he might be in for his toughest case to date.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 92
Kudos: 302





	1. Chapter 1

Steve was no stranger to non-disclosure agreements. They had been very exciting the first and second time around, when Steve had still been intrigued and speculated about what he might get to see in those special places, those homes of the rich and the famous. He’d wondered what the high society had to hide, whether there’d be hints of depravity strewn around his clients’ apartments.

As it turned out, there was nothing juicy to be seen. These were just people who didn’t want their homes and medical problems leaking to the press and Steve could understand that. The last thing he ever wanted was to make a client feel unsafe.

Word had gotten around somehow and over the last year or so, Steve’s struggling massage studio that he’d operated out of an overpriced Brooklyn studio apartment had flourished into a business the specialized in house-calls. He’d long given up renting a place, instead everything ran over his website. Word of mouth really was the best advertisement.

Whenever anyone booked him, Steve grabbed his foldable massage table and set out to his client’s place. His prices were on the low end of average for a New York City massage therapist but given that he rented a tiny studio apartment to live in and had no running costs outside of his constant need to replenish massage oils, Steve felt like he was making bank.

Sure the only way he could do that was by offering his services outside of office hours, and yes, that meant that sometimes he didn’t get much sleep, but life was finally running smoothly for the first time ever and he wasn’t about to give that up.

The occasional generous tip from the rare wealthy client went a long way in helping him along too, so Steve never shied away from the extra work involved in the non-disclosure process and never hesitated to provide his social security numbers to let the client or their assistant run a background check on him.

The last request for an NDA ahead of a consultation had come in weeks ago and Steve had almost forgotten about it, with how busy his week had been.

When his phone rang, and a female voice asked to speak to him about the NDA it took him a moment to remember. He had paused at the entrance to a subway tunnel to take the call and had to shift his bags around awkwardly, trying to balance his grip on his massage table carrier bag, his backpack and his phone so he could hold it while he spoke.

“Oh yes, of course. The one with the ‘no electronics allowed in the client’s apartment’ clause. Yes, of course I’m happy to comply with that if you can provide a safe place for me to leave my phone.” He said.

“Excellent, that’s wonderful. How soon can you be on the Upper East Side? I understand you’re probably a very busy man, but I’d really appreciate it if you could make it sooner rather than later, today if possible.” She sounded urgent, worried even.

“Well Ma’am. I have a client in Harlem in an hour, but I could come down right after that. Say… uhm…. 4:30?” Steve offered after consulting the clock on his phone.

“Miss Potts is just fine, no need to call me Ma’am. 4:30 will be perfect. Please report to the reception desk at Stark Tower and provide a photo ID. Security will take you where you need to be.”

“Right, thank you, Ma-Miss Potts. I’ll be there.” Steve promised. The line went dead and Steve stared at his phone for a moment before putting it back into his pocket and lugging his massage table down into the subway system.

Miss Potts. Wow. He’d seen her picture on tons of magazines lately. She was one high powered lady with a vision. Steve wasn’t much for tech, and he’d never been able to afford a Stark phone, but he knew that company made some amazing products. From what he knew, Potts had taken the helm as CEO of Stark Industries after Tony Stark had stepped down. That had been a whole to-do a year or so ago. The guy had been kidnapped in Afghanistan. The ransom video had been played all over the news. Steve thought back, trying to remember if he’d ever seen anything about the guy again after that press conference where he’d announced SI wouldn’t produce weapons anymore. He didn’t think so. Weeks later, Potts had taken over his position.

And it was a hell of a position to be in, wasn’t it? All that traveling, the suits, the heels, the meetings, the long hours and the desk work. Steve would be surprised if she wasn’t wound tight as a coil. He wondered what happened to her last massage therapist, he was sure she had to have had a regular one before.

All thoughts of Potts and SI were put on the backburner while Steve tended his next client, but before he knew it, their time was up, and Steve cleaned the table and packed up to head to Stark Tower.

The building was huge and in Steve’s opinion a little ugly on the outside. The inside was beautiful though, all marble floors and sleek gorgeous lines to all furniture and appliances. Even the elevator banks blended into the design seamlessly. It was well put together and Steve felt intimidated, when he walked up to the reception desk.

“Steve Rogers. I have an appointment at 4:30. I’m the massage therapist.” He explained, putting his ID within easy reach of one of the receptionists. He checked his watch: 4:20, he’d made it. The woman smiled at him. “Excellent. Please can you put your equipment down so that security can check it, and hand over any electronic devices to me for safekeeping.”

Steve did so immediately and watched as two beefy guys started inspecting his equipment. They were delicate about it too, no rough handling. They lifted and turned his table and oils around as if they were all made of glass. Steve appreciated that. He’d been searched before and not in a good way. Even the pat-down he received was polite and swift.

He was given the all-clear and one of the guys asked Steve to follow him. He thanked the receptionist and stepped into a small elevator with the man. A minute later, the double doors opened into a gorgeous apartment. It was probably the single nicest place Steve had ever seen. Beautiful, but comfortable. The living area he was facing had floor to ceiling windows out into the city. The sofa was so large and cosy-looking, Steve wanted to faceplant into it.

“You can set up here.” The security guard told Steve, indicating a wide-open area between the cocktail bar and the sofa area that was set low into the ground a few steps down.

Steve thanked him, undoing the latches of his carrier bag again and setting up his massage table. He set out the oils on the counter of the bar and laid fresh towels from his backpack on the massage table, putting paper around the head support.

Then he stood and waited for Miss Potts.

It wasn’t Miss Potts who slowly walked out of the marble corridor though, it was Tony Stark himself, wearing what looked like pyjamas and a soft house coat, his hair was in a disarray as if he’d just rolled out of bed. Nothing about the dark circles around his eyes indicated sleep though.

Steve quickly covered his surprise with a smile.

“Hi, I’m Steve.” He said, trying to break the ice quickly. There was something hesitant about the man’s whole demeanour and Steve briefly wondered if Stark had known that he was coming.

“I told Pepper; I don’t want this.” Stark said quietly where he stood at the entrance to the corridor, looking at Steve with something bordering on mistrust. He seemed ready to bail. “You can pack up and go, you’ll be paid for your time on your way out.”

That was new.

“Sir, with all due respect, I’m already here now. I’d be happy to help you with anything at all.” It was abundantly clear from his slouch that the man was in pain. There was something tense about him. Steve could tell from his posture that it had once been good, but Stark now found it hard to hold himself up straight. It had only been a year or so since his temporary disappearance, but the time had aged him rapidly. There was grey in his hair and his skin looked pasty in a way that spoke of a life lived inside.

Steve remembered press pictures from a while ago, Tony Stark had been a vibrant man, tan and extroverted with a big smile on his face; a man who spent time in the sun with pretty girls or boys hanging off his arm. He couldn’t see that man in front of him now.

“I signed all the non-disclosure agreements. Whatever you need stays between us. And I’ve got really warm hands. I promise.” Steve tried when the man didn’t respond. He could see the indecision on Stark’s face.

“I’m not laying down on that thing.” He said as if he thought that statement would test Steve somehow.

“You don’t have to. This is time for you and your body. We’ll only do stuff that feels good.” Steve replied easily.

“Stuff, huh?” Stark looked slightly amused, taking Steve in from top to bottom. There was a hesitance to him, but something else seemed to win out.

“I only do massages. No happy endings.” Steve clarified, just in case the man was questioning Steve’s legitimacy. That got him a soft snort. Steve smiled in response.

“Do you want to sit down on the table, or on the sofa maybe?” He asked. “If you don’t want to, you don’t have to get undressed. And you can send me away anytime.” Steve assured him, sensing that he had to tread carefully.

Stark took a deep breath that seemed to almost hurt him. “Alright. But when I say stop, you’re done.” He warned Steve.

“Your body, your rules.” Steve assured him and followed Stark to the sofa at a respectful distance, watching his back as he went. Stark was bent forward a bit, as if protecting himself. Steve figured he must have had a recent injury to his ribs or collarbone maybe. The man seemed fragile to him, stiff and tense. Steve found that he really wanted to help him.

“Steve, was it?” The man sat down, facing Steve.

He nodded in response, sitting down within reach of Stark.

“You can’t put too much pressure on my chest, that’s why I can’t lie down.” He explained, not elaborating further than that.

“Okay, no problem at all. What would you say hurts the most today?” Steve asked, because there was no doubt the man was in pain. He was pleased to see that Stark actually took a moment to think about that.

“Everything…but, my upper back around the ribs and the lower back. Neck too.” He cut himself off and Steve had a feeling that the man was in need of a full-body massage, more than anyone Steve had ever treated. If his client wasn’t so skittish, Steve would have suggested as much, but he understood that this had to be Stark’s time, and that his priorities were what counted, at least this time around.

“Okay, we can work on that. Do you want to stay sitting up?” Steve asked, glad that he hadn’t been sent away. He didn’t move, didn’t reach out, not until Stark turned to face away from Steve in a silent agreement.

Steve knew the man was on the fence, any little misstep would get him kicked out right now, so he was gentle when he reached out, putting his hands on the man’s shoulders and stroking them inwards and down Stark’s spine. He could feel muscles coiling all the way down. It wasn’t a surprise, but Steve really felt for the man. He had to be in so much pain. “You just tell me if anything hurts in a bad way. A bit of pain is normal, but it’s meant to feel like it’s helpful for later.” Steve spoke quietly.

He started to work on the muscles in Stark’s shoulders, working through his shirt and house coat, not using too much pressure, feeling his way around the man’s reactions. He knew he was getting it right when Stark leaned back into his touch ever so slightly, seeking out more pressure subconsciously. Steve adjusted his touch and started really working on his shoulders and neck.

Stark gave a shudder and a soft relieved moan a few minutes in. Steve could feel he’d been holding it in. He didn’t comment on it, simply continuing his work, over Stark’s upper back and down to his ribs. When Stark leaned away a little, Steve softened his touch and soon they were back on track, Stark reacting and Steve adjusting to him.

About 30 minutes in, it became apparent that Steve wouldn’t be abruptly dismissed. A content silence fell over the two of them. Steve didn’t know what was causing the man all this pain. He wished he had free reign to properly work on his back, on the table where it was easier to see patterns, but Steve understood that allowing this much was already a big deal for Stark. He realized that it was sheer dumb luck he’d managed to talk Stark into allowing him this close.

“Easy.” Stark warned when Steve worked over his lower back and Steve softened his touch even more, working on him ever so gently now.

Stark moved his arms, touching his face. Steve looked up just in time to see him wiping at his face.

He stroked his hands up the man’s back and down again in a soothing manner, feeling the slight reduction in knots and tightness. After a long time in pain, even a little relief could go a long way.

“We’ve still got time, I’d like to work on your back more, but I feel like your chest arms and legs could use some attention too, would you like me to- “

“I think this is plenty for today.” Stark cut him off and Steve didn’t push. The implication of a further session was heavy between them. Steve really wanted to come back.

“Alright. I think it might be good if you could have a hot bath or a hot shower now, help your muscles relax some more. You should see someone again soon.” Steve recommended; his voice soft. He stroked his hand down Stark’s back and got up. “I’ll get you some water. Make sure you drink plenty, it’ll help.” He promised, finding bottled water behind the mini bar and bringing it over. Stark looked surprised at that, but overall there was something shaky to him now. Steve gave him a smile. “I’ll pack up now.”

Stark nodded, drinking the water slowly as he continued to watch Steve.

Steve wondered what he was seeing, what he was thinking. All Steve could really think about right now was that Stark looked better already, just from a short session. Steve was sure he could help him, if only the man would allow him to come back.

“Let me know if you want to book another session. I’ll try and be available whenever suits your schedule.” Steve said, picking up his table again, oils already packed away.

“Thank you, Steve. I’ll... Miss Potts will be in touch.”


	2. Chapter 2

Steve couldn’t stop thinking about his appointment at Stark Tower for the rest of the day. He couldn’t stop thinking about Stark’s back either. It wasn’t unusual to see businessmen with painfully tight backs. Hours hunched over computer keyboards with no movement were enough to ruin the healthiest back, but Stark’s back was something else. The patterns weren’t typical for office work, the parts of him that were tense didn’t match the lifestyle Steve imagined for him. He wondered if Stark had been injured recently, maybe during his kidnapping?

Later that night Steve found himself watching YouTube videos on his phone, different angles of that famous press conference playing on his screen. He watched as Stark sat down in exhaustion, his arm in a sling, hunching forward ever so slightly. There was something shaky about him, Steve read later that he’d come straight from the airport to the press conference.

Not much later in his spiral down the Tony Stark rabbit hole, Steve came across a newsreel that played the ransom video that the news stations had regurgitated on a loop for days at the time of the kidnapping. Stark’s chest was bloody, bandages wrapping crisscross around his rib cage. It was hard to see details in the grainy footage, but there was an injury to his upper front torso around his sternum. Was that what was still plaguing him now?

Steve picked up the envelope he had been handed at reception. A total of 400 dollars for less than an hour. It was more than triple his usual rate. Stark was a rich man though, and Steve was glad that it wasn’t more money. He would have felt incredibly insulted if someone had given him the feeling he was being paid for his discretion. That’s what the NDA was for and it was a basic part of his service.

Discretion was important to Stark though; Steve was sure of that. Otherwise, Steve was sure, it would have been some PA and not Miss Potts herself calling Steve for his services.

He wondered how Stark felt about their appointment in retrospect, if he was still annoyed about having an appointment booked for him, or if Steve had made it worth his while. Was he in pain now? Steve didn’t feel like he’d had the chance to make this the best massage it could have been. He hadn’t had the chance to work on Stark’s body systemically. Point treatments were good, but at this level of muscle tension, he really wanted to provide an overall relief.

Pain was difficult to treat, just being in pain made the body tense. Apart from the primary damage, Steve was almost certain there was some secondary interference. The man’s neck had been tight. Odds were, Stark had a habit of clenching his teeth against the pain he felt. Did he have migraines from it? Steve really wished he could get his hands on Stark again.

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Days passed and Steve got busy again, the whole Stark situation blurring into the background. He wasn’t even sure if he’d ever see the man again.

Steve met some new clients, which was always nerve-wracking, but Steve ended up feeling great about them and he found his diary pleasantly full. New York City was the capital of stressed-out people in needs of his services and Steve was all too happy to provide them.

It had been a full two weeks since his appointment at Stark Tower when his phone rang again. Steve had saved Miss Potts’ number just in case and was glad for it when his phone rang at 7AM and he sleepily rolled over to glance at it.

Only his rough voice indicated that he’d been asleep a second ago when he spoke. “Good morning, Miss Potts. This is Steve Rogers speaking.” He couldn’t help but smile, a part of him giddy at the prospect that he might get booked again.

“Mister Rogers, hello. I’m sorry I just realized how early it was.” She said, sounding wide awake. She was either a morning person, or severely jetlagged. Or both.

“No trouble at all, how can I help you?”

“Would you be able to squeeze a double appointment into your calendar this week?” She asked. “It would be for Mister Stark and myself.”

“Certainly. Hold on, let me just pull up my calendar.” Steve said, pulling his phone away from his face to open the app. The calendar was barely open in front of him before she started telling him her availability and he scrambled to keep up with her.

Steve was relieved when he could agree to the third slot she named. “So that’s tonight, 9PM and then 10PM for yourself?” He confirmed. It was a bit late, but not the craziest time slot he’d ever agreed to by a long shot. “I’ll be at security by 8:40. Did you have any particular requirements?”

“No, no I don’t think so.” Steve really liked her voice, there was something kind but professional to her. Efficient, but not rushed.

“Alright then, thank you for calling. I’ll see you tonight.” Steve promised, smiling when she agreed and hung up. Wow, a double appointment at Stark Tower. Steve got most of his business via word of mouth, but he hadn’t imagined Stark would speak about their appointment in a way that would convince Miss Potts to book Steve.

The day flew by and Steve managed to get home by 7PM. There was no way he was going to Stark Tower after a day of work, smelling like sweat, massage oil and the New York subways system. He showered and changed into a fresh uniform, treating himself to a cab ride to avoid dragging his equipment across town again.

His heart was pounding when he entered the lobby, but he smiled at the receptionist when he signed in. He was searched with the same care as last time and led into the same elevator by a security lady in a sleek black suit. She was nice to Steve but her air of no-nonsense was unmistakably professional.

This time, Steve wasn’t alone in the room when the elevator doors closed. Stark was already in the living room. This time in sweatpants and a t-shirt. The house coat Steve had worked around last time wasn’t far though, he could see it draped over the end of the sofa. The look on Stark’s face was a curious mixture of anticipation and trepidation. It was like he couldn’t believe he’d asked to have Steve back.

“Good evening, Mister Stark.” He smiled, feeling genuinely happy to be back. “Should I set up the table or do you want to use the sofa again?” He asked.

“You’ll want to set up for Pepper.” Stark said, watching as Steve swiftly unpacked the cushioned table, seemingly thinking about it. Steve didn’t push or coax. He really wanted the man laid out properly for examination but pushing it wouldn’t help either of them.

He wondered what all made Stark anxious. He remembered Stark telling him he wouldn’t lay down because he couldn’t take pressure to the ribs, but he had a feeling that wasn’t all.

The fact that he’d been asked back at all was a big deal though, and Steve figured maybe he had some wiggle room to maybe try his luck a little bit. “Do you wanna try sitting on the table? The sofa is wonderful, but it’s a bit soft… if you sat up here, I could get a more accurate picture of what’s going on with your back?” He offered. Now that he was looking at Stark, he could see he seemed in a better state than last time. He looked showered and put together, though not more rested compared with Steve’s last visit.

“You’re the professional.” The man agreed and Steve smiled, stepping back from the table to let Stark get on it. The man didn’t remove his shirt. “Alright. I remember you mentioned your ribs last time. If you find that you do want to lay down, I promise I’ll be very careful around them.” He said as he put his warm hands on Stark’s back.

With his hands on the man’s shoulders from behind, he used his thumb to create a little leverage to make him sit up a little straighter. He could feel the man exhale somewhat sharply. That wasn’t easy for him then.

“Can you tell me what’s hurting?” Steve asked, worried about causing pain. He had only meant to straighten him up the slightest bit to get a full picture of his back.

“Nothing, don’t worry about it.” Stark replied and Steve made a conscious effort not to snort in amusement. He was literally here in order to worry about it.

“That’s not quite how this works, Mister Stark.” He said softly instead stroking his hands down the man’s back and feeling out the damage.

The comment earned him something that could be an amused or annoyed huff, Steve wasn’t sure.

He worked his way down Stark’s back. The pattern of tensions hadn’t really changed. Steve wished he could lay the man out and just work him over until they made some progress, but he kept his touches light.

“Alright, you know the drill. You tell me if something feels painful in a bad way.” He said, setting to work over the man’s shirt. Without the house coat, Steve got a better picture of Stark’s physique. Stark had the body of someone who used to be in the gym a lot but hasn’t been in a while. His muscles were well-defined, but he wasn’t pumped up like a lot of guys with vanity muscles.

Steve moved his hands across the man's back, trying to treat more systemically this time around, rather than asking Stark for specific areas to focus on. It was a little awkward with Stark sitting up, and Steve couldn’t do a lot of his best techniques, but he was working around that as best he could, working on massaging out the largest muscles first and loosening the man’s shoulders and neck second.

Stark seemed to relax more this time. Steve didn’t feel the same spring-like tension that had made Steve feel like the man had been prepared to flee from the situation during their first session. This time he even got some vocal responses.

“There.” Stark gasped when Steve dug his fingers into the occipital region where the skull met the neck, a common point of pain for anyone leaning forward too much, like Stark was doing. “You got it.” Steve smiled, massaging out the tension there. “If you want to lay down on your back later, I can work these muscles over more.” He offered but didn’t push for it, and Stark didn’t respond.

As Steve worked, he felt like he couldn’t pinpoint any sites of origin for the man’s pain. He was almost convinced now that the real problem lay elsewhere, not in Stark's back.

Stark swayed a bit and Steve stopped his movements, putting his hands on the man’s shoulders to steady him. Working on the neck and head could make people dizzy, hell any massage could have that effect. That was another reason why laying down was a great idea. “Would you like to take a break? I can get you some water.” Steve offered, his tone warm and patient.

Stark reached up, covering one of Steve’s hands with his own and looking over his shoulders, meeting Steve’s eyes. “I think maybe I’ll lay down after all?” He asked. Steve nodded, a huge sense of relief washing over him. He kept a hold of Stark helping him lay down on his back, as the front seemed to still not be an option. Steve couldn’t help but wonder if Stark thought Steve, or someone else, might attack him if he wasn’t looking.

“Would you like me to cover your eyes- “

“No!” It came before Steve could even pose the question.

“No problem.” Steve assured him quickly, glossing over it and sliding a folded towel under Stark’s head for comfort. “I’ll work on your neck and shoulders but let me know if you’d like me to focus on something else as well.”

He set to work again, focusing on Stark’s neck. Laying down and stretched out as he was, Steve could feel much more and treat Stark's tight muscles with more precision. He turned the man’s head this way and that, cradling his head with one hand while working on the opposite side of the neck. After some time he gently rolled Stark’s head into his other hand and did the same for his other side.

Stark’s head was warm and heavy in his hand and for the first time it felt like Stark felt calm. His eyes even drooped shut, head shifting into the touch ever so slightly. Steve smiled, glad to see the otherwise tense man look so at peace.

He worked down the sides of Stark’s neck and to his shoulders. The muscles there were tight, and Steve followed the tight muscles back over the edge of the shirt collar down his collarbones and-

Stark’s hands shot up and caught Steve’s before he could get more than two inches below the man’s collar, holding Steve’s hands with vice grips, panting as he stared up at Steve with wide frightened eyes.

Before he could get up or push Steve away, Steve linked their hands.

“It’s okay. I wasn’t going to hurt you.” He promised softly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you at all.” He loosened his own grip on Stark’s hands but let the man keep a hold of him so he’d know Steve couldn’t touch him.

“Of course not.” He choked out after a moment. “Why would you, I’m the one that pays you.” Steve had a feeling he was more telling himself than he was telling Steve.

“Exactly.” He agreed. “Lay back down, Mister Stark, please.” He kept his tone steady, though inside Steve’s stomach was coiling with the shock of the sudden movement and the fear he’d seen in the man’s eyes.

After a moment, Stark did and Steve pulled his hands back up to the man’s shoulders, massaging them gently. “A lot of people react like that when I get near a part of their body that's in pain. It’s not unusual.” That was a blatant lie, but he didn’t want Stark to feel embarrassed. Sure, Steve had had one or two veterans lash out at him like that, but at least they’d been aware of their own PTSD. He wondered if Stark was.

“Right, animal instinct.”

“Exactly.”

The rest of the session Steve spent on vaguely effective, comforting touches, more like he’d treat a very relaxed person who was seeing him for pampering, but it seemed to work. Stark’s breathing evened out and he relaxed again.

Steve glanced at the man’s chest. There wasn’t much to see there now, not with the t-shirt on, something looked slightly odd though, Steve didn’t dare look too closely right now. Maybe a deformity of the chest? An injury that hadn’t healed well? It was hard to tell. He could only focus on treating what he was allowed to treat. If Stark wanted him to know more, Steve would find out.

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At 10PM sharp, the elevator doors opened, and Steve heard the distinct clicking of heels on stone. “This looks like a treat and a half.” Came a woman’s voice, soft but clear in the wide-open area.

“No, Pep, he’s mine, I’m keeping him.” Stark protested. Steve smiled down at Stark, glad to see he was relaxed enough for joking and seemed happy to see her.

“I think our time is up.” Steve said, having already wound down the procedure. “Take your time getting up.” He instructed, gently helping the man sit up.

He turned to face Miss Potts. In her heels, she wasn’t much shorter than Steve. Her long hair was in a sleek knot and the dress she wore made it clear that she’d come straight from work.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Potts.” He said, offering his hand after quickly washing up in the sink behind the mini bar.

To his surprise, Stark made no move to leave the room, having wandered from the massage table to the sofa where he seemed to melt into the cushions with a visible sense of relief.

Miss Potts had watched too, smiling fondly. “If I look like this after you’re done with me, the pleasure will have been all mine.” She assured him and Steve smile, appreciating her warm tone. He wasn’t sure if the two of them were a couple or just very close, but she seemed comfortable with Stark hanging around during her treatment, so Steve didn’t say a word about it. Instead, he busied himself with changing the towels for her.

“Would you like me to put on a heating blanket?” He asked, assuming that she didn’t have the same hang-ups that Stark did.

“Please do, I’m always cold.” Steve slid the heating blanket under the covers and turned it on while she took her shoes off, groaning in pain. “When you’re ready, please undress to your comfort level and use the second towel to cover up.” He said, turning around to give her privacy while he pulled on his belt that held the harness with the full oil bottle he used for convenience. “Are there any particular areas you’d like me to focus on?” He asked.

He heard the soft noise of a zipper being undone, then more fabric noises and finally the softest of creaks of someone climbing onto his massage table.

“Neck. Definitely. Upper back. Feet.” She groaned softly just from laying down. Steve wondered if that was why Stark was staying, to see how Steve looked treating someone on his table. He was acutely aware that he was being watched intently. Stark wasn’t saying anything though, so Steve didn’t pay him any attention. This was Miss Potts’ time.

“We can definitely do that.” Steve promised turning around when she stopped moving and finding her perfectly ready for him. She knew the drill.

“Anything I ought to be aware of before we start?” He asked. Usually he preferred to do a 5- to 10-minute intake conversation with a new client, but with Stark being so secretive and the quick changeover Steve felt a little out of tune with himself and his usual procedure. It was strange, losing the upper hand was something he experienced occasionally when working in a client’s home. Even if they were just people with various pains who needed his help, Steve couldn’t quite forget what influential members of the high-society they both were.

“No, no, just a history of desk work.” She assured him and Steve gently uncovered her upper back, leaving only her lower half covered by the towel.

Unlike Stark, Miss Potts had all the patterns of a desk-worker, just like she said. She was a fit woman, but no amount of yoga or pilates could completely keep the pains of too many hours in a high-pressure job at bay.

Where Steve had felt wrong-footed and unsure earlier while treating Stark, this felt familiar and easy. He knew exactly what to do and Miss Potts was helpfully vocal, pointing out her worst spots as he went. She’d done this a lot; he couldn’t help but like her. What a model client.

Her back took some work, but she ended up melting into the table, almost completely relaxed by the time he’d worked her over. The deep moan when he stared working on her feet was entirely expected to Steve. Stark laughed on the sofa, genuinely delighted by it. Steve had almost forgotten about him.

Miss Potts snorted in response. “You shouldn’t laugh before you tried it.” She scolded him good-naturedly.

Steve smiled. He was almost certain now. She was doing this to get Stark on his table. Whatever she knew that Steve didn’t, it had her concerned enough to set all this up to help Stark get the treatment he needed. Steve admired that. Whatever they were to each other, there was a lot of love there, that much was clear.

He did the same neck treatment for Miss Potts when she was on her back a few minutes later that he’d done for Stark too, leaving her smiling and stretching like a happy cat by the time Steve was done with her and washing up.

“Is there anything else I can do for either of you today?” Steve asked, looking between the two of them. While he’d had his back turned, Potts had gotten off the table and slipped Stark’s house coat on, looking the picture of relaxation as she sunk onto the sofa next to Stark, talking to him very softly. Steve saw the man shake his head.

“No, Steve, thank you. That’ll be everything today.” She told him. “Would it be alright if I’m here for Tony’s next treatment?” She asked.

“If Mister Stark is happy to have you in the room, you’re welcome to be there.” Steve assured her, looking at Stark who was still looking at her. Finally, he nodded, making her smile.

“I’ll pack up for today then. Would you like to re-book right now, or do you want to call me?” He asked.

By the time Steve left the tower ten minutes later, he had a pocket full of cash and another double appointment set up for the next week.


	3. Chapter 3

When Steve was next escorted into the penthouse of Stark Tower the atmosphere wasn’t anywhere near as warm and calm as it had been the week before when Steve left it.

Instead of the two clients he expected, he only found Mister Stark, pacing anxiously.

“Good afternoon, Mister Stark.” Steve said, soft so as not to startle him out of whatever string of thoughts had him wearing down his carpet.

Stark didn’t look at him. “Tony is fine.” He said, surprising Steve with a tone that almost sounded as if the thought of Steve calling him Mister Stark was ridiculous at this point.

“I…-I think Miss Potts won’t be joining us today.” He added, in a tone that made it clear that he’d mentally relied on her being here. Steve looked out the window where Stark’s, -Tony’s- gaze kept returning. There was a helicopter pad outside, connected to a balcony a few stories down.

“Is she travelling?” Steve asked softly, putting down the table, but not unfolding it yet.

“She was meant to be back by now.” Tony explained, his voice low and a little bit shaky. He was clearly trying to pull himself together, but the fact that she wasn’t there was triggering something. Not quite panic, but anxiety at the very least, he’d relied on her to be his lifeline here.

“You were hoping she’d be there for moral support.” Steve said, understanding. “Mister-… Tony, there’s nothing bad that can happen here. I promise. I’ll be really careful, and I wouldn’t do anything you don’t like anyway.” Steve assured him softly. “Do you want to have a security guard in the room with you?” He offered. “For safety?”

Tony shook his head. “I can’t. I can’t, this can’t. Fuck.” He stopped pacing turning to face Steve. “I need help, but I can’t ask for it, because you can’t see what’s wrong.” He explained.

“I can’t? I might be able to refer you to a specialist if- “

“No, you don’t understand. You can’t /see/ because if this gets out, there’s no telling what will happen.”

“But with Miss Potts here it would be safer?” Steve asked, not following him at all, but trying to stay as calm and supportive as possible for Tony’s sake. If Miss Potts wasn’t here to support him, Steve had to, though he didn’t know how.

Tony’s shoulder sagged. “No. No, but she knows already.” He put his foot down hard on the carpet, rocking back and forth on it, as if trying to decide whether he could take the step he so anxiously needed to take.

“I need your help. You signed the agreements. You can’t tell anyone. If anyone offers you money, no matter how much, you can’t take it. You come to me and I’ll give you more, no matter how much it is. If someone threatens you for it, you tell them lies and then you come to me and I’ll take care of it. I’ll pay you 10 times your normal rate.”

Tony sounded so frightened and Steve wasn’t stupid enough to not take him seriously.

“Tony, I don’t want you to do that, especially not because you’re scared. I’m not going to do anything that you don’t want me to do.” He repeated. “That includes tattling your business to other interested parties, no matter what they put on the table.” He assured him. “Your body and everything we do here, that’s not up for discussion or sale with anyone else. I promise. I wouldn’t.” Steve told him softly, holding the man’s gaze. “Please tell me what’s hurting you so I can help you properly.” He said, having long understood that he wasn’t given insight into the true root of all that ailed Tony.

Tony’s breath came out in a shuddering staccato as he tried to get himself under control. Steve could feel him willing himself to believe what Steve was saying. He didn’t move, didn’t say another word.

“I have a hole in my chest.” He finally said, clear and slow, as if to give Steve a moment to process it. Steve was grateful because he needed the processing time. “I have a hole in my chest the size of your fist. I don’t have a sternum. The muscles that connect to my sternum were cut and crudely attached to a device that’s keeping me alive.” He tapped the centre of his chest and Steve heard a hollow knock, as if someone was tapping their watch, or a thick sheet of plexiglass. “It was done in dim lighting in a dark cave and there’s no removing or changing it, not without cutting out even more. There’s nothing to be done.” He shuddered at the memory. “… it fucking hurts.” Tony’s eyes were wide and intense, almost wet and Steve believed every word of it.

The implications of someone missing a chunk of bone in such a delicate area where so many muscles converged and ran all through the chest, abdomen and up to the arms and neck. It was inconceivable. The man had to be in a horrendous amount of pain. An injury like that would skew everything. If Tony was only getting help with it now… well, Steve had already felt some of the damage.

“Have you seen anyone about it?” Steve asked, reaching out for the man’s arm and gently leading him to sit down on the sofa with Steve. “Someone like me, or even your regular doctors?”

Tony shook his head. “No. Pepper knows, a friend of mine does too. That’s it. I can’t tell anyone. I … bad things happen when people know.” He said, not elaborating.

Steve could tell trauma when he saw it. He didn’t push or ask what had happened. The fact that Tony’s doctors didn’t even know was worrying. Steve wasn’t even sure if he was qualified to help Tony properly. Still, he was the one being trusted with this right now, it was his duty to at least do his best.

“Can I see?” He asked, holding Tony’s gaze.

He saw the wheels turning in Tony’s head, but he seemed to have concluded that he might as well see this through now.

Steve held his breath as Tony struggled to pull his shirt off. He realized for the first time that Tony couldn’t lift his arms above his head. Instead he wiggled out of his sleeves sideways and ducked his head out somewhat clumsily.

The sight that greeted Steve under the man’s shirt was almost indescribable. He didn’t know what on earth he was looking at. A round metal device was inset in Tony’s chest, raised only slightly out of his scarred skin. Steve understood what he’d seen last week, the slightly odd shape under Tony’s shirt. It was covered in duct tape, which made the entirety of his chest look like a massacre. The skin around the device was scarred deeply, still red in a way that often happened in skin that was moved around a lot during the healing process. This wasn’t a section of the skin that ever really stopped moving, Tony was breathing, that was enough to keep it red and irritated. No matter how Tony’s muscles were attached to or under it, there was simply no way they weren’t being pulled at by this device constantly. Steve wondered how far in it went. He wondered if Tony’s ribs were connected to it or floating against it. Tony had said he didn’t have a sternum, did that mean it filled that entire space above his heart?

“My god, how are you even upright?” Steve didn’t mean to say it, it just slipped out. “Sorry, it’s just… I’ve never seen anything like this before. I understand a bit more about what’s hurting you now.” He said, looking up at Tony who was watching Steve very carefully.

“What’s the duct tape for?” Steve asked, though what he really wanted to know was ‘what the hell is this whole thing for?’.

“It glows, through clothes.” Tony elaborated, still tense. “And I can’t have you seeing this in detail.” He added. Steve nodded, understanding. The tape was for him.

“Okay well… is there any way I can work around this area? I think if we loosen your chest muscles and do some gentle exercises, we could really decrease your pain and increase your mobility.” He said, sitting back, realizing he’d gotten closer and closer to Tony’s chest as he examined the device.

“Last time anyone got that close they tore it out of my chest. If you touch this thing…”

For once Steve was the one to interrupt him. “I won’t do that. I won’t hurt you. It’s not even an option. I’ll work around it and I’ll be careful about that too, but I won’t hurt you.” He said, firmly.

Tony seemed almost cowed into calming down. Steve felt for him, he really did. It was obvious the man was scared, and he wasn’t in a good enough condition to fight anyone Steve’s size. The last thing he wanted was to intimidate Tony in any way.

“Thank you for telling me, I’m really glad I get to try and help at all. That’s a lot of trust, I appreciate that.” He stood up, holding out his hand to help Tony up as well. “Let me help. Let me really try to help you.” He asked, heart beating faster when Tony took his hand and let Steve pull him to his feet. Tony’s hand was cold in his.

He set up the table quickly, patting it for Tony to sit on. “Would you lay down for me?” He asked, giving Tony an encouraging smile. He looked calmer now, as if a huge burden had been lifted from him just by telling Steve what was wrong. Steve cheered internally when Tony lowered himself onto his table with his chest facing up, exposed for Steve to work on.

“I’ll just feel my way around for a moment, okay? I don’t really understand what I’m looking at, I want to feel. You can take a hold of my wrists if that feels better?” He offered, remembering how Tony’s hands had shot up to stop him the last time he’d gotten too close to the device in his chest.

He smiled when Tony took him up on the offer. Cool hands encircled Steve’s wrists, firm but not squeezing as Steve set to work feeling around the device, pressing only ever so slightly to get a feel for how the muscles were running, identifying knots and tight areas. What he learned over the next couple of minutes was that Tony’s entire chest needed work, and that it was probably going to hurt no matter how tender Steve was with him.

“Okay so, I think working on this will hurt.” Steve admitted, to prepare him.

Tony nodded, looking up at him. Steve couldn’t look away from the man’s eyes now that he had a chance to look. They were very expressive. Tony was an incredibly handsome man, even with months of neglect.

Steve had done more research on him since their last appointment. He hadn’t been seen in public for 9 months, not since the funeral of his mentor, Obadiah Stane, which he left early. Steve understood now that Miss Potts might have been the only person to see him for great stretches of time in the past months. No wonder he’d been so nervous about a new person in his home.

“But I think it’ll be worth it. Ideally I don’t wanna hurt you more than doing your neck hurt last week.” He explained. “Can you work with me and let me know if it gets worse than that? I think the more we work on this together the better we can get it, and the less pain you’ll be in over time.” He said, wondering what Tony was hearing, wondering if he trusted Steve or if the message that arrived was ‘if you let me keep hurting you and paying me for it, you’ll feel better eventually’.

“I can do your kind of pain.” Tony assured him. “Last week helped already, if you can do that for everywhere, I can stick out some pain in the sessions.” Steve understood. The constant chronic level of pain Tony was in had to be wearing him down, he was happy to accept an hour or two of more intense pain if it made the constant buzz of daily pain go down.

“Okay. I’ll start with your shoulders and work my way down. I think.” Steve decided. “Are you okay with that?”

Tony sat up, suddenly and Steve followed his gaze, smiling when he saw a helicopter approach the tower. “Is that Miss Potts?” He asked, smiling, so happy to know Tony would have his lifeline after all. Maybe that way he could relax properly and let Steve do his best.

“Yeah, that’s her.” Tony said. “Can we just… let’s wait a minute until she’s here.” He decided and Steve nodded. “Sure thing.”

It wasn’t three minutes before the elevator doors to the penthouse opened and Miss Potts’ tell-tale heel clicks announced her arrival. “Tony… oh!” She stopped, clearly surprised but delighted to see Tony in a state of undress. Her eyes darting to his bare chest and then to Steve.

“Hey Pep.” The relief was written all over him. He trusted her to have his back, that much was clear. “We were just about to start.” And with that he laid down on Steve’s table.

“Hi Miss Potts.” Steve smiled, draping a towel over Tony that covered him up to his midriff.

“Hello Steve. I’m glad you could squeeze us in.” She said, taking off her shoes and suit jacket to sit down on the sofa.

Steve smiled down at Tony. “Relax, I’ll start with your neck and shoulders. We’ll work downwards from there. If anything hurts too much, you tell me.”

“Got it.” Tony was collecting himself, controlling his breathing. Steve got his belt on, oiled up his hands and set to work. He started with Tony’s shoulders and neck area, working on really easing him to lay down into the towel that served as a pillow, massaging the back of his neck and right beneath his skull by lifting his head ever so gently. He felt Tony inhale the scented oil deeply. This part was already familiar to him now, it wasn’t scary, he was relaxing into it, so Steve took his time.

He worked across the man’s collar and out into the top of his arms. There was a good amount of tension there, muscles coiling too hard. Steve would bet he slept curled up on his side, protectively shielding his chest on instinct. He felt the man’s breathing pick up as he followed the muscles from collar to the center of his chest, not quite touching the device, but getting close to it.

“Fuck…” Tony shuddered, and Steve lightened his touch when he repeated the motion, he’d been using light pressure to begin with, but he didn’t mind adjusting. This was going to take a lot of work, but Steve was all too happy to do it.

Now that he could work on Tony’s front, he could really feel the origin of the knots he’d felt in Tony’s back during the past two weeks. The atypical patterns made sense and were all caused by the device in the centre of the man’s chest.

Steve couldn’t help but wonder what it did.

He ended up turning Tony to his side and working from the back to the front in his rib area to really feel out all the connecting masses of tight muscles and loosen them strategically. He worked and worked, checking in with Tony about the pressure repeatedly as he went.

On some level, Steve knew they were going over the hour mark, but by the time Tony laid slack jawed on Steve’s table, arms relaxed at his side, breathing as deeply as the device allowed, two hours had passed. Steve looked over at Miss Potts, a little panicked, but she just gave him a warm smile. Steve smiled in return, covering Tony up to his collarbone with a towel and walking around the table so he could face him.

“Stay down for a few minutes, okay? You’re going to feel dizzy.” He warned him, his hand on the man’s arm over the towel.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” The response was soft and dazed and Steve couldn’t help but smile at him.

“I’m really sorry I kept you waiting, Miss Potts.” He said, heading over to her. “Do you still want me to work on you?” He asked.

“I could do with one of your foot massages.” She told him, and Steve understood that she wanted to keep Tony calm and happy on that table if possible. He could do her feet right here on the sofa.

He smiled, nodding. He fetched a towel from his bag, sat down on the sturdy couch table and laid it out over his lap. She scooted down on the sofa into a comfortable position and laid her foot in his lap.

He set to work happily, working over her feet thoroughly. There was a warm sense of pride in his chest. Steve could feel that he’d really helped Tony.

When he glanced over, he saw that the man had fallen fast asleep on his table. Miss Potts followed his gaze, smiling as well. “Looks like you tired him out.” She smiled.

“We did a lot today.” Steve explained. “It’s to be expected. When you work on muscles that have such a build up of automatic tension… yeah, it’s bound to make you tired.” He said, working her arch which made her shudder. “Harder there.” She demanded, and Steve complied.

He didn’t offer any advice on footwear. This was a brilliant woman. She either wore them because she loved them or because she genuinely felt she had to, and it wasn’t Steve’s place to tell her otherwise unprompted. Miss Potts was easy to treat though, and he enjoyed her instructions and expressions.

“Can we set up a standing appointment?” She asked after a few minutes. “Tony, then me. My schedule is a little unpredictable, but I’m usually home at this time of night.”

“Sure thing, I’d be happy to.” Steve assured her. “We can set up a three-hour time slot, and you two can just let me know how you want to split it?” He suggested, starting on her other foot.

“I think that’d be perfect.” She said. “We’ll get a table too, shall we, so you won’t have to lug that thing across the city.” She decided, eyeing Steve’s equipment.

“I’m happy to, you don’t need to do that.” Steve said but she waved him away and Steve realized she’d already worked this out in her head.

“Thank you, Miss Potts.” He said instead. “That’s amazing. Any table works, you just choose one that’s comfortable to you.” He said.

“Needs to be at least that comfortable.” She agreed, smiling fondly at Tony who was out like a light.

Steve worked over her feet and up to her calves and knees before she decided that would do for her today.

“I think I had best get him into bed and go home.” She said, yawning. “Thank you, Steve, that was wonderful.”

“No problem.” Steve smiled, cleaning off her feet with the towel so she wouldn’t slip on the marble floor.

Home, she’d said. So, she didn’t live with him. He let her head over to the table and watched as she woke Tony gently, a hand in his hair. He still startled a little, but not much and looked down his body, confused.

“Haven’t woken up naked in a strange place in a while.” He joked, pushing himself up and off the table. His whole posture looked better to Steve and he watched the man touch his collar and neck. “Thank you, Steve.” He said, seeming a little flustered, probably embarrassed for falling asleep.

“No worries at all. Miss Potts already booked me again for the same time next week, if that works for you.” Steve said, not mentioning that it sounded like he’d been booked for the foreseeable future.

“That works, yeah, that’s good. Thank you.” Tony said, nodding and pulling his shirt back on clumsily.

“I’ll call down to reception. A car will take you home.” He decided and Steve was about to protest, but Miss Potts shook her head before he could speak.

“We’ve kept you late, it’s the least we can do.” She said and Steve couldn’t help but smile.

“Thank you, really. I’d appreciate that.”

It was 11:30 on a Friday night. He hadn’t looked forward to dragging his table onto the crowded Friday evening trains full of drunk party animals.

Steve packed up the table, feeling a pang of sadness to be leaving that he didn’t quite understand.

“Take a hot shower, alright? You’ll be sore tomorrow.” He told Tony, holding his gaze for a little longer than he’d intended to.

“Have a good weekend.” He told them both, receiving the same sentiment as he left for the elevator.

Less than ten minutes later he was sat in a town car being driven all the way to Brooklyn by a man in a suit. The envelope in his pocket was heavier than it should be, and Steve didn’t have the nerve to count it in the car.

When he got home though, the urge overwhelmed him, and he swallowed hard. Ten times, Tony had said. He’d been paid ten times his normal fee. “Fuck me…” Steve said softly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I guess this is officially sort of a series now, I'm not sure how many chapters there will be yet, I'm just really enjoying writing this. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think. Comments and kudos make me so so happy, you have no idea!


	4. Interlude: Sam

Steve loved Sam's body. He really did. Not in a romantic or sexual way; they'd never been like that, but after years and years of exchanging massages on a quid pro quo basis, Steve was more familiar with Sam's body than he was with his own.

When Steve was massaging Sam, he didn't need to think. His hands, the length of his lower arm and his elbow became automized precision tools, like his body was honed for Sam's relief. There was only one other person he'd ever had this level of familiarity with, and Bucky had deserted Steve's services when he'd gotten serious about his relationship with Sam. Steve couldn’t blame them, nothing felt better than a massage from a loved one who knew what they were doing.

Sam had soft music playing, nothing like the meditation style music they put on for treatments, but something slow and vaguely cheery. Steve didn't recognize the band, but he enjoyed the melodies. They let him sink into a deeply contemplative mindset.

"Oh fuu...." Sam moaned when Steve got that spot under his shoulder blade just right. He knew the ache there well. They both had to bend over and have their head down a lot, and those neck muscles weren't forgiving.

Steve couldn't help but chuckle, sinking his elbow just a little deeper and following the tight muscle's course up towards Sam’s shoulder, shifting the muscle gently to give Sam relief.

He loved the way Sam almost deflated after that. The worst of the tension was gone, the rest of the work was just for pleasure and maintenance now.

"You want me to do your glutes?" Steve asked, causing Sam to sigh unhappily. "I'll be gentle." He promised, knowing Sam didn't like pressure around that area much.

"Yeah sure. And feet." Sam decided, adjusting himself a little on the table. "You staying for dinner?" He asked Steve when he set to work on Sam's lower half.

"Can't. I got that late-night client." Steve said regretfully. He hadn't seen his friends for quality time in weeks.

"The one that overpaid?” Sam snorted. “Good luck with that."

"I know..." Steve was dreading that conversation too, but he couldn’t just keep the money. He'd decided to offer it as a retainer for 10 hours of his services, so that no money needed to exchange hands again.

"If you get so much rich people business from this, that you can't find any more time in your books, make sure to recommend me." Sam chuckled. "I don't know how many more office gigs I can take."

“You know I carry your cards.” Steve assured him, patiently loosening up Sam’s glutes.

Office day gigs had been a blessing, Steve had been able to make a steady income with them when he'd first started out. A company would book him for the day and put up a base fee. Then the employees could book his services for allocated timeslots throughout the day to make up his full fee. It worked great, so long as people booked him for most of the day. If they didn't, Steve had to sit in his little room with his table all day, playing on his phone.

"You still good to cover me on Monday?" Sam asked, slowly relaxing under Steve's careful work. Steve loved nothing more than to hear that little sigh of relief as Sam relaxed just a bit more, letting go of tension that hadn't even bothered him but made such a difference to get rid of.

"Yeah, they already emailed me this morning, the deposit's been paid, so I'll be there at 8:30AM." Steve assured him. "You two enjoy your weekend away, you deserve it." Steve shifted Sam's underwear back into place, covering him with the towel to his chest to keep him warm and comfortable while he moved his legs ever so slightly to get better access. He started working on Sam's upper thigh, using the length of his forearms to smooth over the firm muscles.

“You make that man of yours call me sometime next week though.” He joked. Bucky had been busy, properly busy the past two weeks. Steve missed him, but he couldn’t deny how much of a difference that new job at Stark Industries made to Bucky’s self esteem and happiness. He was actually glowing with it. Steve wished he could ask Bucky what he knew about Tony, not that Bucky was likely to have met him.

Sam made an amused sound. “The fact that you think I can make him do anything.” Sam smiled. “Harder.” He said softly and Steve complied, digging his fingers a little deeper into the bottom of Sam’s foot. After that, he focused on Sam’s body in silence for a while, turning him over and working on the front of his legs for a bit. He could feel Sam’s gaze on him occasionally, wondering what Sam saw.

“Come stay with us next weekend.” Sam suggested. “We’ll throw on the projector, have a movie night.”

“That sounds amazing.” Steve’s timer started buzzing in his pocket. “Shit, time flies, huh?” He rushed to Sam’s sink to wash his hands before fishing out his phone to turn the alarm off. “Next weekend.” He confirmed when he came back, watching Sam sit up slowly, his body looking much more relaxed.

“Next weekend.” Sam confirmed, giving him a dazed smile. “Take care of yourself, Steve. Try not to get too rich.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't thank you enough for your kind comments! They really motivate me and give me such a massive boost of happiness whenever I get a notification email. I hope you liked this interlude. More to come soon!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who commented. I can't tell you how much every single response meant to me!


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